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THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 














Successful Rural Plays 

A Strong List From Which to Select Your 
Next Play 

FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubes. For five male and six female characters. Time 
of playing, two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two 
easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a 
farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New 
Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to marry a society woman, 
and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. 
Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by 
intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora. She agrees to marry 
Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip 
learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple 
plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience 
alternately to tears and to laughter. Price, 25 cents. 

HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubes. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two 
hours and a half.. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four 
acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs 
has written. Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter 
Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son 
of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn. 
She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. 
When Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave 
Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- 
covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him also. Then 
he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. Price 25 cents. 

THE OLD NEW HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New 

England Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven 
males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, 
modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich 
in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of 
the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- 
terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of \ strong sit- 
uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play 
everybody understands and likes. Price, 25 cents. 

THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy 
in Three Acts, by Fr.\nk Dumont. For five males and four 
females. Time, two hours. . Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- 
terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money 
from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's 
niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the 
wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting 
and novel. Price, 25 cents. 

A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in 
Five Acts, by Charles Townsend. For seven males and four 
females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 
One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a 
country lad, twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which 
results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker 
in his power, but the \Miite Mountain boy finds a way to check- 
mat-e his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. Price 
25 cents- 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



A HOT DAY 



A Comedy in Two Acts 



BY 

HELEN BAGG 

Author of ' ' fVhiskers , " ''Why Not Jim,'* etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1920 



-.^'>'* 

-<'^'^>^ 

^^^^" 



Copyright 1920 by The Penn Publishing Compan" 



AH! '00 ia20 



©C1.D 54411 

A Ho, Day ^, ^ 



A Hot Day 



CHARACTERS 

Mrs. Milton Travis . . . who is reducing 
^^Y \ . ■. . . . . . her daughters 

Olga Samaroff . . a young person zvifh ideas 

Mr. Philip Pemberton . . a prosperous citizen 

Richard Fuller . his nephew, a young physician 

Samuel Powers a young lawyer 

Lucy ^ <■ 

lyr >■ . . . society girls, members of the Club 

MiuR/i a Japanese attendant 



Act I. — Afternoon. The sun parlor of the Country 

Club. 
Act II. — Evening. Same day, same setting. 

Time : — The present. 
Place: — Long Island. 

Time of Playing. — One hour and a half. 



STORY OF THE PLAY 

It*s dangerous for a man to write letters to a girl he's 
never seen. Sam Powers has done it, and Olga 
Samaroff, who claims to be a Bolshevist, has 
fallen in love with him. She sends him her pic- 
ture. Sam asks Dick Fuller to help him out of 
the scrape. Dick is engaged to Inez. Of course, 
Inez sees the photo. Dick tries not to give Sam 
SLway. Then Olga finds the photo in Dick's hand 
and thinks he is her Sam. Inez finds Olga's red 
parasol, and Olga comes back for it. Then there 
is trouble all around. Sam, escaping in a bathing 
suit, is pinched for speeding, and rescued by Amy, 
who loves him. Dick, to scare off Olga, says 
Uncle Philip is a Secret Service man, who is trying 
to capture her. But Olga captures Uncle Philip, 
gives up Sam and Dick and admits she's plain Jane 
Jones, of Michigan — who pursues thrills and 
writes thrillers. Inez and Amy satisfied and 
everybody happy. 



COSTUMES, ETC. 

Mrs. Travis. About forty-five. A stout woman, not 
too fat, but at that stage where one is supposed to 
put up a determined fight against the enemy. In 
Act I she is dressed for golf. In Act II wears 
evening dress. 

Inez. About twenty-three. A sweet-looking girl. In 
Act I dresses in golf clothes. In Act II evening 
dress. 

Amy. About eighteen ; very pretty. Act I, golfing 
costume. Act IT, summer evening dress and wrap. 

Olga Samaroff. About twenty-three. A dainty, de- 
mure young person who does not in her appear- 
ance at all suggest Russia. In Act I wears the 
same costume — the very latest thing in summer 
4 



PROPERTIES 

toggery. She carries a red parasol at first 
entrance. In Act II evening dress — something 
slim and clinging, with rather severe style of hair 
dressing, all of which emphasizes her youth and 
demureness. 

Lucy. About twenty. Act I, golf costume, outing 
coat, cap, etc. In Act II summer evening dress. 

May. About twenty. In Act I golf costume. In 
Act II summer evening dress. 

MiuRA. About twenty. Japanese costume. 

Uncle Philip. About fifty. A dapper and pleasant 
little man devoted to his nephew. In Act I street 
summer costume. In Act II evening dress. 

Richard. About twenty-seven. Good-looking. He 
.has an air of good will toward everyone. While 
he is not unsophisticated one feels that he is not 
at all the kind of man to do anything queer or 
unconventional. In both acts sack suit, in good 
style, cap. 

Samuel. About twenty-five. Very good-looking, 
temperamental, but not effeminate. He has a 
Avinning manner. Act I, summer business suit. 
At entrance carries auto goggles and gloves, and 
duster. Later in Act I appears in a bathing suit, 
and throws over it a bathrobe of very gay design ; 
wears canvas sneakers. In Act II appears in a 
badly fitting and very shabby, not to say soiled, 
suit. 

PROPERTIES 

Lucy. Golf clubs ; pocket mirror. 

May. Golf clubs ; newspaper ; pins. 

MiURA. Tea things; tray with two glasses of lemon- 
ade and plate of cake ; victrola ; tray v^^ith sand- 
wiches, cake, pitcher of iced tea, and glass. 

Amy. Two bags of golf clubs ; two glasses of lemon- 
ade. 

Mrs. Travis. Phonograph and record. 

LTncle Philip. Handkerchief. 

Richard. Cigarettes ; matches ; check-book ; fountain 
pen. " 

5 



PROPERTIES 



Samuel. Photograph of girl. 
Inez. Handkerchief ; powder-puff. 
Olga. Red parasol. 

Other Properties. Bowl of punch (lemonade) ; 
ladle, glasses and wafers. 



SCENE PLOT 

EXTERIOR BACK/NG 




Scene for Act I. — Morning in the sun-parlor of a 
fashionable country club. A curtained doorway 
leads to veranda. On either side of door is a 
window (may be omitted), furnished with window 
mat and gay cushions. Doors r. and l. Up r. 
a phonograph. Cozy little tea-tables, with chairs, 
up L. and down r. Down l. a table with golf 
trophies, etc., and a comfortable chair. Other 
furnishings as desired, including rugs and one or 
two tabourets. 

For Act II, the same scene, on the evening of the 
same day. Shades at windows lowered. Tea- 
tables up L. removed and the larger table now 
stands near window up l. Down r. small table, 
with a bowl of punch (lemonade), ladle, and 
glasses. Colored lamps will add to the attractive- 
ness of the scene. 



A Hot Day 



ACT I 

SCENE. — The sun parlor of a fashionable country 
club. The room is large and pleasantly fur- 
nished with summer furniture. A curtained 
doorway at c. leads out onto the veranda; on 
either side of it is a window, furnished with win- 
dow seat and gay pillows. A door at r. leads 
presumably to the other club rooms, while one at 
L. leads to the ladies' dressing-room, the dining- 
rooms, kitchen, etc. The Japanese maid usually 
enters from l. At l. by the zvindozv is a cozy 
little tea-table with chairs. At r. dozvn front, a 
similar one. A good sized chair stands at l. ; a 
tabouret or two, a table containing golf trophies, 
etc., give the room an air of cheerfid comfort. 
There is a phonograph up R. 

(As the curtain rises, the victrola is playing softly a 
popular waltz, and Lucy and May are sitting at 
the table at l. c. They are dressed for golfing, 
and their clubs lie near them, but they evidently 
find the weather more conducive to repose. May 
is reading a newspaper, while Lucy is studying her 
features in a pocket mirror. Both are rather blase 
for good-looking young women — perhaps it is the 
heat.) 

May. Lucy! Here's Inez and Dick's engagement 

announced. 
Lucy (yawning). Really? Everybody knows they're 

engaged — why bother to announce it? 

7 



A HOT DAY 

May. I suppose Inez Travis has flirted with so many 
men that Dick felt safer having it down in black 
and white. {She reads the notice. While she is 
doing so, Miura enters at l. carrying a small tray 
upon which are two tall lemonade glasses and a 
plate of cake. She places these on the table, being 
careful not to come between May and the audience 
while May is reading aloud. As she goes off at l. 
she closes the victrola.) "Mrs. Milton Travis 
announces the engagement of her daughter, Inez, 
to Dr. Richard Fuller, of this city. Dr. Fuller 
served overseas with the Rainbow Division." 

Lucy. Dick's a nice fellow, but rather tame. It 
would have been much more exciting to marry 
Sam Powers. She carried on with him scandal- 
ously at one time. 

May. Yes, Lucy dear, every girl has carried on 
scandalously with Sammy Powers at one time. 
That's why it would be such a serious mistake 
to marry him. 

Lucy {with a giggle). It must have seemed awfully 
queer to Sam to be a private in the same regiment 
where Dick was a major ! 

May. Awful ! {Pause, while they both sip their 
lemonade and munch the cake.) Do you know, I 
think it's queer that Sam didn't bring home a 
French wife. 

Lucy. I suppose he didn't dare, May. A young law- 
yer needs all the money he can get to live on 
while he's waiting for clients. 

May. How about a young doctor? 

Lucy. Oh, Dick's different. That rich uncle of his 
will look out for him. 

May. He's rather a dear— Dick's Uncle Phil. He's 
been trying to show Mrs. Travis what's the matter 
with her drive. 

Lucy. Lots she cares about her drive ! She plays 
golf to reduce. Seriously, though, I think she 
ought to chaperon Amy better. It's ridiculous for 
that child to be going to regular dances at seven- 
teen. 

8 



A HOT DA Y 

May. They can't help it. It's all the fault of the war. 

Lucy. The war? 

May. Yes. Amy drove an ambulance, and was ar- 
rested six times. Naturally they can't put her 
back into the schoolroom — she'd contaminate the 
rest of the children. 

Lucy. Of course. 

May {taking another peep at the newspaper). Girls 
are awful these days, aren't they? Here's a mil- 
lionaire out in Michigan advertising for informa- 
tion about his daughter. She ran away a while 
ago. 

Lucy. Why should anybody run away from a mil- 
lionaire ? 

May. Can't imagine. {Throws down the paper.) 
Staying to the dance to-night? 

Lucy. Yes. I wonder if Inez and Dick 

May {spying Mrs. Travis and Amy, who are entering 
atR.). Hush! How de do, Mrs. Travis ? Hello, 
Amy ! 

(Mrs. Travis and Amy are dressed for golfing. Amy 
carries both bags of clubs — Mrs. T. having reached 
that point of exhaustion where every additional 
pound is agony. She sinks into a chair down r. 
near the other tea-table and unmistakably pants. 
Amy stands r.) 

Amy. Hello, girls ! Now, Mamma, of course you're 
hot and tired — that's what you're doing it for. I 
wouldn't be a bit surprised if you'd lost a quarter 
of a pound this afternoon. 

Mrs. T. {indignantly). Quarter of a pound? If I 
haven't lost five in the last fifteen minutes I'll 
eat my hat ! 

{She takes off the hat and fans herself with it.) 

Amy. You mustn't eat anything, or you'll gain it all 
back again. {She puts down the clubs and seats 
herself on a tabouret.) My, isn't it hot? 

Lucy. I'm very comfortable. 

9 



A HOT DAY 

Mrs. T. (enviously). That's because you're thin. 
The breeze can rattle through you. 

Amy. Goodness, Mamma ! 

Mrs. T. Well, it's so. There's one comfort, though; 
you thin people can't get fat, while we stout ones 
can always reduce. 

May (sympathetically). Why don't you have a lemon- 
ade? They're awfully refreshing. 

Mrs. T. (enviously) . I guess I will. 

Amy. Now, Mamma, you promised 

Mrs. T. I promised not to eat. I didn't promise to 
die of thirst. Go find that Jap and tell her to get 
me a nice cold one, and not to be stingy with the 
sugar. 

Amy. Sometimes I think you don't want to get thin ! 

(Exit,!..) 

Mrs. T. (with a sigh). Well, I often wonder if it's 
worth it. 

Lucy. Are you on a diet? 

Mrs. T. Yes, and it's going to land me in the poor- 
house, I guess. I may eat plenty of prairie 
chicken, duck, pheasant, artichoke, asparagus, 
fruit out of season, and a few nice things of that 
sort. In the meantime, my whole soul yearns for 
potatoes and white bread ! 

May (rising and crossing to Mrs. T.). Poor dear! 
I don't believe a little of this cake would hurt you. 

(She offers it.) 

Mrs. T. The family would find it out, somehow. No, 
take it away ! 

Lucy. How's your game coming on ? 

Mrs. T. (morbidly). It isn't coming, it's going. If 
people would only let me alone, I might get some- 
where — but no, they all want to show me how. I 
got so nervous to-day that I hit the caddie instead 
of the ball. That cost me a dollar! (Amy 
enters l. carrying two lemonades. Mrs. T. takes 
one.) Thanks, dear. 

10 



m 



A HOT DA Y 

{She tastes it, and makes a grimace. May goes up 
L. c.) 

Amy. Well, Mamma, you know sugar 

Mrs. T. No, I don't — any more, except by hearsay. 

Did you see Inez anywhere ? 
Amy (seats herself r., drinks lemonade). Yes; she 

and Dick just drove out. 
May (gushingly) . Oh, I 'do so want to congratulate 

Inez ! Dick is such a dear ! 
Mrs. T. Yes, he is. 
Lucy. It must have been such a relief to get Sam 

Powers off your mind. 
Mrs. T. (with feeling). Relief! 
Amy. I don't see why. I think Sam is lovely. 
Mrs. T. (severely). Don't call him " Sam." You are 

too young to call young men by their first names. 
Amy. I called him something worse than " Sam " last 

time I saw him. He cut in ahead of me when I 

was driving a load of wounded men over to the 

Canteen, and I told him what I thought of him. 
Mrs. T. I don't know what girls are coming to nowa- 
days, I'm sure. 
Amy. Well, for one thing, I guess they're learning to 

do their own cussing. You simply can't depend 

on the police. 
Mrs. T. (in a hollow tone). Daughter! 
Lucy (tactfidly). Well, it must be a comfort to you 

to think what a steady fellow Dick is. Inez will 

never have to worry about his flirting with other 

women. 
Amy. I don't think it's very nice to talk about Dick 

that way. Anybody'd think he was a wooden 

Indian. 
May (dreamily). Well, I think a wooden Indian 

would make a lovely husband. 
Amy. That's not the kind I'm looking for. 
Mrs. T. Daughter! 
Amy. Oh, I'm not hunting for one, you know ; I'm 

just keeping my eyes open when they're around. 

One thing the war has taught us all is the value 

of preparedness. 

JX 



A ROT DAY 

(The girls giggle; Mrs. T. looks hopeless. Enter Inez 
at R. One sees that she is very happy over her 
engagement. ) 

Inez. Oh, here you all are ! Hello, girls ! Mamma, 
dear, what's the score to-day? 

{She crosses, giving her mother a little pat as she 
passes; stops to greet the two girls at L. c. They 
both rise.) 

Amy. You don't have to tell your score if you don't 

want to. 
Lucy. Well, I see it's in the paper, dear. We all 

wish you every happiness. 
May. Dick is such a good fellow. You're very lucky. 
Inez (simply). Isn't he! I guess I know how lucky 

I am. You are both to be my bridesmaids, you 

know. 
Lucy. Lovely ! 

{The girls sit. Inez comes down to chair at l. Sits.) 

Amy. I'm going to be maid of honor. 

Inez. If you behave. Otherwise, you'll be a nice 
little flower girl. 

Amy {angrily). I won't. I'll see your old wed- 
ding 

Mrs. T. {severely). Daughter! 

Amy {swallowing hard). Well, I won't be a flower 
girl. I'll get up and holler In that quiet place 
where the minister asks if there is any just cause 
or 

Inez. If you do, I'll turn around at the altar and box 
your ears ! 

Mrs. T. Children, please 

{Enter Dick at r.) 

Dick. Hello, girls! {Shakes hands zvith Mrs. T.) 
Hello, mother-in-law-to-be! {To Amy.) Hello, 
baby ! What's the game to-day ? Helping Mother 
reduce ? 

19 



A EOT DAT 

Amy {gloomily). Yes, but I guess Fm the one that 

will reduce. I'm down to an even hundred. 
Dick {going up c). It's immensely becoming. Quite 

" vamp-like." You'll find it useful when you enter 

the movies. 
Inez. Dick, please don't put ideas into her head. 
Amy {scornfully). That's not an idea; it's old stuff. 

I'm going in for aviation. 
Dick. Good work ! Let's have an Ace in the family. 
Mrs. T. We're more likely to have a corpse. 
Dick {to May and Lucy). You girls been playing? 
May. No, loafing. It's such a hot day. 
Inez. Let's have a foursome, we four girls. Dick 

and Mother can go along for a gallery. 
hucY {rising). Splendid! 
May {picking up clubs). All right, I'm on. 
Mrs. T. Thanks. Wild horses couldn't drag me out 

in that sun again. 
Inez. Then you can sit here and cool off. We'll only 

play the short course. I'll get my clubs. 

{She runs off at r.) 

Dick {picking up Amy's, May's and Lucy's bags). 
I'll referee this game and see fair play, though at 
the risk of my life. Come on, girls. 

{He, Lucy and May go out at c. Amy pauses a mo- 
ment beside her mother.) 

Amy. Hadn't you better have a shower and a rub 

down, Mamma? 
Mrs. T. Go away and leave me alone. I guess I 

know when I want a bath. 
Amy {injured). Well, it's very reducing! 

{Exit at c. IV hen she has gone, Mrs. T. rises and 
crosses stealthily l. c. to the table that the girls 
have left. She picks up the cake plate, on which 
there is a piece of cake left. She eyes it envi- 
ously. ) 

Mrs. T. It was chocolate — I knew it ! I suppose that 

13 



A HOT DAT 

girl could eat a ton of it without danger, and yet 
she goes away and leaves it! (Looks hastily 
around, takes it in her hand.) I hate waste! 
{She hears someone coming at l., hastily puts 
down the cake, crosses to the victrola up r. and is 
apparently examining a record when Miura enters 
at L. with tray, to remove dishes. Mrs. T. crosses 
to her chair with much dignity. Miura clears the 
tables. Mrs. T. clears her throat nervously.) I 
don't care ! I will do it ! 

Miura (turning to her smilingly). Yes, lady? Hon- 
orable lady speak? 

Mrs. T. Yes. You may take away this rubbish and 
bring me something solid. Solid — see ? 

(She brings her hand down on the table for emphasis.) 

Miura. Oh, yes ! Cup of tea, bread and butter 

Mrs. T. No. You may bring me three club sand- 
wiches, two pieces of that cake, and a pitcher of 
iced tea. Understand ? 

Miura. Oh, yes, you very hungry ! 

Mrs. T. I am. And see that those sandwiches are 
made of white bread. 

Miura. Oh, yes, I see. . 

Mrs. T. And get 'em here quick before any of the 
family come back. 

Miura. Oh, yes, much honorable hurry ! 

(She trots off at l. zvith her tray of dishes. Mrs. T. 
relaxes comfortably.) 

Mrs. T. Now, if I can get a few minutes to myself 
perhaps I can recover from the devastating effects 
of this awful day. 

(She nods sleepily; her head sinks against the back of 
the chair; she is the picture of comfort:) 

Uncle Ppiilip (entering ate). Hot — very hot ! Reg- 
ular scorcher ! (He sees Mrs. T., tiptoes softly l., 
picking up the newspaper that the girls left, car- 
ries it to chair down l., sits and reads; then, find- 
14 



A HOT DAT 

ing it still uncomfortably hot, he drops paper and, 
taking out his handkerchief, mops his forehead. 
While doing this he notices the pecidiar motion of 
the lady's head. She is asleep, and her head is 
slowly tipping to one side. Uncle watches in 
fascination — as it really seems as though she were 
going to fall out of the chair. At the crucial 
moment she rights herself, and wakes. Uncle, 
pleasantly.) Ahem! 

Mrs. T. Dear me, I must have dropped off! Oh, 
Mr. Pemberton, when did you come in? 

Uncle. Just a moment ago. Where are the young 
folks? 

Mrs. T. Playing golf. Dick is with them. 

Uncle. A fine boy, that, Mrs. Travis, though I say 
it who shouldn't. 

Mrs. T. Yes, indeed. We're all fond of Dick. 

Uncle. And he's marrying the prettiest, sweetest girl 
in town. 

Mrs. T. {modestly) . Well, Tm sure I've tried to bring 
Inez up in the way she should go. She hasn't 
always gone, but she's a good girl, take her all in 
all. 

Uncle. I think so highly of her that I intend to show 
my appreciation of Dick's choice in a substantial 
manner. 

Mrs. T. That's very charming of you. 

Uncle. Yes, I know that the road of the young 
physician is an up-hill one, and I don't Intend that 
these yoimg people shall have their noses kept to 
the grindstone if I can help it. 

{As he talks, the Japanese enters l. with a tray piled 
high with Mrs. T.'s order. She places the things 
on the table before the lady, whose eyes shine 
happily. ) 

Mrs. T. That's handsomely said, Mr. Pemberton. 
With the prices of food what they are these days 
it takes all a young man can make to get along. 

Uncle {eyeing the tray with horror). I should think, 
it might ! 

15 



A mr DAY 

Mrs. T. Won't you have some tea? She can bring 

another glass. 
Uncle. Thank you, no. I never touch iced drinks. 

I regard them as most injurious. 

(Exit MlURA, L.) 

Mrs. T. Do you think so ? Well, I'll risk it. I'm liv- 
ing on a diet, Mr. Pemberton. 

{She attacks a sandwich.) 

Uncle. What ! 

Mrs. T. a hard and fast, rock-ribbed, dyed in the 

wool diet, gotten up by somebody who is getting 

rich off the sorrows of humanity. 

(She takes a long drink of the iced tea.) 

Uncle. Bless me ! 

Mrs. T. But you were saying — about Dick and 
Inez 

Uncle. Oh, yes ! I think of buying the practice of 
old Dr. Hanley, the nerve specialist, who is retir- 
ing. That is in Dick's line 

Mrs. T. Splendid ! 

Uncle. He deserves it, ma'am. Not as brilliant, per- 
haps, as Sam Powers, but steady. They tell me 
that Sam is making a promising young lawyer. 

Mrs. T. I can quite believe that he would do well in 
the divorce branch of the profession. 

{Enter Dick at c.) 

Uncle. He wrote some articles last year for a legal 
publication which attracted a good deal of atten- 
tion, I believe. 

Dick {coming down r. c). Who? Sammy? Why, 
Sammy's going to surprise us all one of these days. 
Good Heavens, Mother, do my eyes deceive me, or 
is this food? 

Mrs. T. {crossly). Well, don't holler about it. 

Dick. Oh, the girls are miles away. They fired me 

at the second hole. Said I made 'em nervous. 

i6 



A BOT DAY 

Mrs. T. I was feeling very ill, Dick — my heart, you 
know. I didn't dare go without food. There's 
no need of worrying the girls about it. 

Dick. Of course not. A man makes a mistake, any- 
how, to tell his future wife everything. She gets 
to expect it. (Starts to cross up L. Sees Sam in 
door c.) Hello, Sam, where'd you spring from? 

(Sam Powers has entered while Dick was talking. 
He comes in at c. and comes down to where Dick 
is standing — about c. From sheer force of habit, 
he salutes Dick.) 

Sam {standing at attention). Just drove out from 
town, sir. Oh, hang it all, when am I going to 
get that army stuff out of my system ! {Shakes 
hands with Mrs. T. and Uncle, finally with 
Dick. ) Congratulations, old man. 

Dick. Thanks, Sammy. 

(Sam goes up L., tosses his hat on the window seat.) 

Mrs. T. (her manner to Sam is quite chilly). I think 
I will go out on the veranda; it's very warm in 
here. 

(She rises and puts a sandwich and a piece of cake on 
a plate to take out with her.) 

Uncle (jumping to relieve her of the plate and offer' 
ing his arm). Allow me, ma'am. 

(Exit Mrs. T. and Uncle at c. Sam stares after 
them, then comes down c.) 

Sam. What's the matter with the old folks, Dick? 

Another match ? 
Dick (seating himself at L., lights a cigarette). No. 

Mrs. Travis has jumped the reservation in regard 

to her diet, and she's afraid the girls will catch 

her at it. 
Sam (sits on Amy's tabouret). I should think she 

might be afraid of the young one. She's got a 

tongue like a traffic cop. 

17 



A EOT DAT 

Dick (a little coldly). Amy has rather a decided 

manner. 
Sam (gloomily). They all have, confound 'em! 
Dick. What's the matter, now ? Been flirting with a 

client and let yourself in for a breach of promise 

suit? 
Sam. I suppose you never flirt with your patients? 
Dick. Hardly. Isn't ethical, to begin with, and — 

well — no one could flirt with my patients. They're 

all neurasthenics; can't even flirt with each other. 

If they could, perhaps they wouldn't need a doctor. 

But what's up with you? 
Sam. Honest, Dick, I don't know, but I fear the 

worst. I'm running away from it now. 
Dick (severely). What do you mean by " it " ? 
Sam. Oh, well, then — she ! 

Dick. Now, look here, Sam, you promised me 

Sam (crossly). Oh, cut it out. Major, we're not in 

France! I don't have to jump when you whistle. 
Dick. Unfortunately, no. But come, what's up ? 
Sam. It looks like a breach of promise suit. 
Dick. At last. Who is the courageous lady? 
Sam. Worst of it is, I don't know whether she is in 

earnest or not. 
Dick. Well, you'll soon find out. 
Sam. You see, well — I've never seen the girl. 
Dick. Never seen her! D'you mean to tell me that 

you've been playing with matrimonial ads ? 
Sam. No, of course not. It's like this. After those 

articles of mine were published last year I re- 
ceived quite a number of letters from people I 

didn't know — an author usually does, you know. 
Dick (dryly). Does he? 
Sam. Most of 'em were just about alike, but this 

girl — her name is Olga Samaroff 

Dick. Russian or Greenwich Village? 

Sam. I'm afraid it's Greenwich Village. She's a 

writer — does magazine stufif — calls herself a 

Searcher for Truth. 
Dick. That doesn't listen good to me, Sam ! 
Sam. I know it, but her letters were so interesting — 

i8 



A BOT DAY 

SO different. She wrote first to ask ine a pro- 
fessional question, for a story she was writing. 
It — well — it piqued my curiosity, and before I 
knew it I was corresponding with her. We wrote 
to each other all the time I was in the army. She's 
kept the letters. You've heard of that sort of 
thing ? 

Dick. The complication has been used rather freely, 
I believe, in fiction. 

Sam {ruefully). Well, it's being used this time in 
fact. She says we're engaged, and that she's 
going to marry me. 

Dick. Shucks, Sam, she's kidding you. No woman's 
fool enough to want to marry a man she's never 
seen. 

Sam {sheepishly). She says my mentality presents 
more points of interest to her than that of any 
man she's ever known. 

Dick. Great Caesar, you can't fall in love with a 
mentality ! 

Sam. She doesn't believe in love. She regards mar- 
rying me in the light of an experience. 

Dick. Well, I guess it would be that. Life with you, 
Sam, could never be monotonous. 

Sam. That's not the point. I don't want to marry 
her. I don't want to marry anybody — yet. But 
she says she'll marry me or make me ridiculous. 

Dick {thoughtfully). She could do both, I suppose. 

Sam {wrathfully) . She shan't do either if I can help 
it. It's a put up job. I never said a thing in those 
letters that I wouldn't say to any girl. 

Dick. Humph ! 

Sam {nervously). At least, I don't think I did. Of 
course I was in an awfully lonesome, blue frame 
of mind just then. I may have said more than I 
meant to. 

Dick. It was about that time that you were so taken 
with that little French girl — what was her name? 

Sam. Oh, you mean Suzette? Oh, I was only inter- 
ested in Suzette for international reasons. 

Dick. What? 

19 



A HOT DAY 

Sam. Yes. She's going to bring suit against the Ger- 
man Government for burning down her uncle's 
•mill, and I gave her legal advice. The interna- 
tional aspect of the case interested me immensely. 

Dick. Sam, I believe you, but I warn you that nobody 
else will. Have you any idea of what sort of a 
person this Olga VVhat's-her-name is? 

Sam {fishing a photograph out of his pocket). Yes. 
She sent me this. 

Dick {taking it). In return for one of yours, I sup- 
pose? 

Sam {firmly). No, sir. I didn't have any with me, 
fortunately. 

Dick {^studying photo). She's very good looking. 
Blonde, I should say? 

{The description shoidd agree with the appearance of 
the girl who takes the part of Olga.) 

Sam. So she says — with blue eyes. I like dark girls, 

myself. 
Dick. Piquant sort of nose — determined little 

chin (Sam groans.) Baby-faced type. 

Sam,. They're always the worst to get away from. 

(Dick hands hlni the photo, but he waves it away.) 

No, keep it for me, Dick. I — I don't want it 

found on me in case anything happens to me. 
Dick {putting photo in his pocket). Oh, I say! 
Sam. I'm human. I suppose I'm just as likely to get 

run over by an auto as anybody. Besides, I don't 

want to get into the habit of looking at it. I want 

my mind free. {Rises; walks up and down.) 
Dick. 1 fail to see how all this concerns me. Of 

course I'm sorry for you 

Sam {brutally). I don't want your sympathy, I want 

your help. I want you to go and see Olga 

and 

Dick. See her? Not much. You won't see her 

yourself, why expose me? 
Sam. You're such a steady old boat, Dick, you never 

rock — while I — oh, what's the use — I tip over 

when they look at me ! 

20 



A HOT DAY 

Dick. Ridiculous ! All you've got to tell her is that 

you don't care for her, never did care for her, and 

couldn't possibly care for her. 
Sam. She'll laugh at me. 
Dick. In that case, she's an unprincipled woman, and 

deserves to be shown up. 
Sam. I can't show her up without looking like a fool, 

and a lawyer can't afford to look like a fool. It's 

not like the medical profession. 
Dick. Well, what could I say to her? 
Sam. Speak firmly to her. Every woman respects a 

doctor. Tell her she hasn't a ghost of a suit and 

that I'll gladly pay her anything in reason to go 

away and let me alone. 
Dick. That's a logical proposition to come from a 

lawyer. 
Sam. Then tell her I've got something the matter with 

me — insanity, spells, fits, anything you like that 

people don't want to marry. You must know a lot 

of disagreeable things that I could have. 
Dick. I shall tell her the simple truth. 
Sam. Well, if you've got nerve enough for that, 

you're the one to see her. 
Dick. Somebody's got to have it. You've lost yours. 
Sam. I have. I've gone to pieces just like those poor 

chaps with shell shock. Say, Dick, why couldn't 

you pretend to be me ? 
Dick (rising). Because I've still got some of my 

brains left, you poor idiot ! Where does she 

live? 
Sam. The address is on the photo. You won't find 

her there now. She's meeting me at the Waldorf 

for luncheon. 
Dick. The deuce she is ! It's three o'clock. 
Sam. I — I had her paged about one-thirty to say that 

I was sick in bed and couldn't come. 
Dick. You young scoundrel ! 
Sam. No, no, it wouldn't be right for me to be taking 

her around and misleading her, would it? I've 

turned over a new leaf. If you get me out of 

th4S 

21 



A HOT DAY 

Dick. That's straight? 

Sam. Absolutely ! I swear it on my honorable dis- 
charge ! I say, Dick, you won't mention it to 
anybody ? 

Dick. I'm not likely to. 

Sam. Even to Inez? 

Dick. Particularly to Inez. I'd hate to have her 
know that I'd been chumming with such a weak- 
minded idiot. 

Sam {much relieved). All right, then I'll go and take 
a dip in the ocean. Bye bye ! 

{He goes off jauntily at R., whistling. Dick looks after 
him and shakes his head hopelessly. Sits at l. 
again, takes out the photo and studies it with a 
professional interest.) 

Dick. A mere youngster ! What are girls coming to 
nowadays, anyhow ? Got a good face, too. Plenty 
of determination — bully chin ! 

(He remains looking at it. Inez enters at c. and comes 
down on tiptoe evidently ready to surprise him 
with a kiss. She sees the photo, and her face 
changes.) 

Inez. Why, Dick! 
Dick (jumping up). What? 
Inez. Who — who is she? 

Dick (putting photo back in his pocket). She? Who? 
Inez (rather uncertainly). The girl in the photograph, 
stupid ! She — she's pretty. Let me see it. 

(He hesitates then hands it to her.) 

Dick. Do you think so ? I hadn't noticed. 

Inez. But (She puts photo to her face and 

sniffs at it.) Sachet powder ! I don't admire her 

taste in perfume. Who is she? 
Dick. It's just a girl I happened to hear about, 

and 

Inez (sharply). And so you ran and asked her for 

her photograph, of course ! I quite understand. 

22 



t 



r 






A HOT DA Y 

Dick (tryifuj to gain time). No, 1 d(3n't think you do, 

but I'll try to explain 

Inez. You needn't, if it's any trouble. 
Dick. I don't know why we need make a mystery of 
it. She's a friend of a chap I happen to know. 
She's— she's a— a manicure girl ! 
Inez. That's why you carry her photograph next your 

heart, I suppose? 
Dick. My heart is on my left side. Next my appen- 
dix, if you like. There's nothing sentimental about 
the'appendix. Now, I carry your picture next my 
heart. 
Inez {bitterly). I never dreamed you had such a 

polygamous nature. 
Dick {horrified). What? 
Inez {taking out her handkerchief). But— but it 

doesn't matter ! {Crosses r.) 
Dick {following) . Of course not, dear. She's a per- 

. fectly nice girl. My friend says 

Inez {angrily). I haven't a doubt of it. I never 
blame the girl in these cases. She tries to do 
right, and it's not her fault if men make her life 
a burden by their horrid attentions. 
Dick. Now, look here, Inez, you're the only girl 
whose life I have made a burden by my horrid 
attentions, and if you're going to turn against me 

on purely circumstantial evidence 

Inez {trying not to sob). I don't call a face like that 

" circumstantial evidence," I call it '' proof." 
Dick {in distress). I tell you I don't know— I mean 

I hardly know the girl ! 
Inez. You knew her well enough to ask for her pic- 
ture, evidently. 
Dick {eagerly). No, I didn't! She— she just gave 

it to me. They do, sometimes, in barber shops. 
Inez {wildly). What! 
Dick {desperately). It's considered chic to give the 

girl's picture with every manicure. 
Inez {soberly). Dick, please don't lie to me! 

(Crosses l.) 
«3 



A HOT DAY 

Dick (following). I wouldn't think of it. I'm not 
clever enough to lie to you, dearest, I 

Inez. No, but you're clever enough to lead a double 
life and to make everybody think that you're such 
a good young man ! Oh, you coward ! 

Dick (angrily). I never tried to make anybody think 
I was a good young man ! I'm not a good young 
man ! I 

Inez. Even your poor old uncle 



Dick (stung by the thought). By George! Uncle! 
Now, look here, darling, you're not going to be 
foolish enough to drag Uncle into this? You'll 
be sorry if you do! Oh, hang it all, I'll tell 
you 

(He tries to take her in his arms, hut she avoids him, 
runs up c, and looks out door. Sam enters r. in 
time to hear these last words. He has changed to 
a bathing suit, and over it a bathrobe. This i^ a 
quick change, but can be made if Sam zvears the 
bathing suit under his other costume, and makes 
the change in the wings.) 

Sam. Great Heavens, what's up? 

(Comes down l. to Dick, as the latter throws himself 
into a chair.) 

Dick (angrily). That photograph is up, you idiot, 
and I'm in the deuce of a mess ! She saw it ! 

Sam (in horror). Great Heavens, man, you haven't 
been telling a lady's private affairs to a perfect 
stranger, have you? 

Dick (clasping his head in his hands). What! 

Inez (coming dozvn c). A perfect stranger ! Are you 
out of your head, Sam Powers? 

Sam. Well, you are a perfect stranger to her, aren't 
you ? Why should he 

Inez (furiously). Oh, of course, you'll stand by him ! 
Men always do ! Here he is, engaged to me, and 
carrying on a clandestine affair with a mani- 
cure 

24 



I 



A HOT DAY 



Sam (amazed). A manicure ! 

Dick (springing to his feet). Explain it to her, Sam! 

Tell her 

Inez. I don't want him to tell me anything. I 

wouldn't believe him under oath! I never want 

to see either of you again ! 

(She goes up r. toward door.) 

Sam (imploringly). Don't go! You shan't go! If 

you do I must go with you ! 
Inez (icily). In those clothes? 

(She sweeps angrily out at r., leaving them staring at 
each other in helpless amazement.) 

Sam (wildly). Hang the clothes! Come back here! 
Oh, I say, old man, what are we going to do ? 

Dick (seizing Sam hy the collar of the bathrobe and 
propelling him toward the door through which 
Inez has just gone). Do? You're going after 
her and you're going to tell her the truth or I'll 
break every bone in your body. Get me ? 

(As Sam disappears at r. Dick sinks into the chair at 
L., buries his face in his hands. Miura enters at 
L. and removes dishes from table. Dick rises and 
strides tip and down angrily. She exits at l., Dick 
glaring angrily at her. Enter Uncle at c.) 

Uncle. Ah, you're still here, Dick ? I want to speak 

seriously to you. 
Dick. What ? You, too ? Why, you can't have seen 

Inez yet ? 
U'NCLE (puzzled). Seen Inez? What do you mean? 
Dick (nervously). Oh, nothing, nothing! She and I 

have had a little row, and I didn't know but 

that 

Uncle (smiling). I see. A lover's quarrel. 

Dick (uneasily). Well, something of that sort. She 

left in rather a huff, but it's coming out all right. 

I sent Sam after her to explain. 
Uncle. Sam? Why, I just saw him jump into a 

25 



A HOT DAY 

machine in his bathing togs and tear down the 

road ! 
Dick (wildly). The coward! The scoundrel! 
Uncle. Why, Dick, what's the matter? 
Dick (trying to collect himself). Oh, nothing, 

nothing! I'm just feehng out of sorts. It's a hot 

day. 
Uncle (innocently). It is, and growing hotter every 

minute. 
Dick (bitterly). You've said it. (Sits at l.) 
Uncle. Dick, I've been talking with Mrs. Travis — 

and watching her eat. She'll be a mountain if 

she goes on. Do — do you think it's in the family ? 
Dick. Nonsense. Inez is as slender as a — a willow 

tree. 
Uncle (gloomily). I've seen willow trees I couldn't 

get my arms around. 
Dick. Well, don't worry, you don't have to put your 

arms around her. If Inez grows stout I'll put 

her on a diet. 
Uncle. Diet ! Her mother's on a diet. It only seems 

to make them more rabid when they cut loose. 

(Mysteriously.) Dick, she tells me she had an 

eighteen inch waist when she was a girl. 
Dick (zuearily). They all tell you that. In all the 

course of my professional experience I've never 

met a stout woman who hadn't once had an 

eighteen inch waist. 
Uncle. Well, well, perhaps you're right. By the 

way, boy, I'm thinking of buying old Hanley's 

practice and presenting it to you the day you and 

Inez are married. 
Dick. Uncle, you're a trump ! No matter what hap- 
pens I appreciate what you've been to me. 

(He seized Uncle's hand and wrings it.) 

Uncle (a little surprised). Tut, tut, my boy, glad to 
do it. Make it up with Inez, aiid don't forget — 
•watch her diet ! 

(Exit, R.) 
Dick. Make it up with Inez ! A fat chance I've got 

26 



A HOT DA Y 

— my only witness gone and this against me ! {He 
takes the photograph out and looks at it angrily. 
Then puts it away, lights a cigarette, sits down r. 
and takes the photograph out again as though 
fascinated against his will. ) Aren't you ashamed 
of yourself ? A nice-looking girl like you, to stir 
up trouble like this for two perfectly well mean- 
ing young men ! I'd like to take you by the 
shoulders and shake the nonsense out of you ! 

{He Continues to study it, quite oblivious of Olga, who 
enters at c. She carries a red parasol — probably 
symbolic of her views. She looks around a mo- 
ment, sees Dick, comes down to him.) 

Olga. Can you tell me where I can find Mr. Samuel 
Powers ? 

Dick {jumping up). I — why {Recognizing her 

at the same moment that she recognizes her photo- 
graph in his hand. He puts it in his pocket.) 
Why, you must be Olga Samaroff! 

Olga {smiling sweetly). And you — you must be my 
Sam! 

Dick. Sam ! Hold on, what do you mean ! I 

Olga. You have my photograph. I find you gazing 
at it. Don't try to play with me. 

Dick. Play with you! 

Olga. You are just the kind of man I knew you 
would be. {She goes l., tosses her parasol on the 
table L., comes back ^., seats herself on the tab- 
ouret, and looks at Dick affectionately. Dick 
stares at her all this time in horror and amaze- 
ment.) Why did you send me that silly old 
message ? 

Dick {collecting his wits). My dear girl, of course I 
have your picture, but I'm not your Sam. I'm 
Dick — Sam's friend 

Olga. It's just another trick to get rid of me. You 
are afraid to meet me. Why are you afraid to 
meet me, Sam ? 

Dick {zvildly). Look here, please ma'am, don't go 
on calling me *' Sam " ! 
27 



A HOT DA Y 

Olga {with the air of one who humors a child). Oh, 

well, I'll call you " Dick " if you prefer it. What 

I want to know is why, after writing me such 

beautiful letters all the time you were in France, 

you suddenly refuse to see me ? 
Dick (whose brain has stopped working). Why, I 

— why, you see 

Olga. No, I don't. It isn't as though you and I were 

the usual sentimental sort of people. We have 

careers 

Dick. I shan't have if you keep this up. 

Olga. Foolish ! I'm going to help you in your career. 

You're the only man I ever met whose mentality 

appealed to me. 
Dick. What do you know about his mentality? A 

man can say anything in letters. He 

Olga. You will persist in denying your identity? 

Can't you trust me? 
Dick. No. I can't trust anyone any more. 

(Rises, crosses and sits l.) 

Olga (rising and crossing to him). Oh, don't say 
that ! It isn't like your noble nature. It 

Dick (feverishly). But I tell you 

Olga (patting his shoidder) . No, I don't want to hear. 
Just think, I had to go all the way to your office 
to find out where you were. Then I find you 
talking to my picture, so I know you don't hate 
me. 

Dick. You're not big enough to hate. I don't ap- 
prove of you in the least. I think you ought to 
be in school ; not out in the world hatching up 
breach of promise suits. 

Olga (dramatically). The world is my school. I 
have had many adventures. 

Dick. I'll bet you have ! 

Olga. I need all the experience I can get. I am 
going to write a play when I am old — thirty, per- 
haps. It will throb with red blood. 

Dick (shuddering) . You talk like a young anarchist. 

Olga. I was a young anarchist for awhile. I left 

28 



A SOf DAY 

them because I found them so unprogresslve. 
They will cling to red flags and bombs, and they 
wear such dreadful clothes. 
Dick {clutching his head). My hat! Am I going 

mad? 
Olga {returning to the tabouret, R.). I was a militant 
suffragette, too. That picture you have of me 
was taken while I was on a hunger strike. I'd 
been fasting for ten days. Just to try it, you 
know. 

Dick. Do you mean to say 

Olga. Oh, yes, I always finish everything I start. 

Dick. Gosh ! 

Olga {pleasantly) . You see, I want every experience. 
Even this breach of promise suit, which I hope 
you won't force me to bring, will be interesting. 

Dick. Interesting ! 

Olga. But you won't make me do it. I can see al- 
ready that you like me. Tell me, why did you lie 
to me about the Waldorf ? It's so easy to tell the 
truth. 

Dick {awed). Easy to tell the truth! Well, it might 
be if there were no women in the world. 

Olga. Now, let's have a real sensible talk. I'm al- 
ways sensible. When I joined the Bolsheviki 

Dick {jumping to his feet with a cry). I must do 
something quick ! This will never do ! {Stopping 
before her.) Listen to me. I'm going to tell you 
the truth. I can't marry you. 

Olga. Can't? Why? 

Dick. Because I — well — I have a very peculiar afflic- 
tion. When I was a baby, my nurse dropped 
me 

Olga {tenderly). Oh! 

Dick {taking heart). Yes, dropped me hard — on a 
cement pavement. {With a gesture of slamming 
something down.) Like that! 

Olga: Oh ! 

Dick. And I have been peculiar ever since. 

Olga. Peculiar? 

Dick. There is a very difficult medical term which 

29 



A SOT DAY 

describes my complaint — but you wouldn't under- 
stand it. To descend to the vernacular, I am 
" nutty " at times. 

Olga. Nutty ! 

Dick. I don't do anything desperate, I just disappear. 

Olga. Disappear ? 

Dick. Yes. It's a beastly habit. Suppose we were 
married and were giving a dinner party; I might 
disappear ten minutes beforehand and not turn up 
for a week. Think of the awkwardness of it. I'm 
likely to do it'any time. I may do it at the altar. 

Olga {sweetly). But 111 keep my eye on you at the 
altar. I don't think you'll disappear. 

Dick. Do you mean to say you won't give me up ? 

Olga. Less than ever, now that I know how much 
you need me. Of course, if it were hereditary, 
my duty to posterity 

Dick. Oh, thunder! {Aside.) Why didn't I make 
it hereditary ? Blamed fool ! 

Olga {rising). Come, I want to go out and see the 
golf links. I want you to show me around a 
little and introduce me to your friends. 

Dick {zvildly). Look here, Olga, never mind my 
friends ; where are those letters ? 

Olga. In my safety deposit box, of course. 

Dick. I want to see them. I've got to see them. 
Not another step do I go in this business till I've 
seen them. Come on ! 

{He picks up his cap and seizes her by the arm.) 

Olga. Oh, very well, I suppose I must humor you. 

And then afterwards we'll go somewhere for a 

nice little dinner, shall we ? 
Dick. Anything — anything — only let's get out of 

here. 

{He hurries her off, so that she leaves her red parasol 
on the fable. They go out at c. Enter at r.Tnez 
and Uncle. She is leaning on his arm.) 

Uncle. There, there ! I thought you were foolish 

30 



I 



I 



A HOT DAY 

to play in this heat. Of course your head would 
ache. 

Inez (m distress). It isn't my head that's upset me, 
Uncle Philip, it's my heart. I'm afraid I've been 
hasty with Dick. If I've misjudged him 

Uncle (leading her to chair down r. and fanning her). 
You have misjudged him. He said so. 

Inez. I began to worry the minute I'd left him. Dick 
has always been so truthful. And yet, that photo- 
graph 

Uncle (seating himself on the tabouret, down r.). 
What photograph ? 

Inez. The one of the manicure girl. He was carry- 
ing it in his pocket. 

Uncle. My Dick carrying a manicure girl's picture 
in his pocket ? Am I mad ? 

Inez. He (She stops, rises, sniffs, makes a 

grimace, and her eyes light on the parasol. She 
goes to table l., picks up parasol and smells it.) 
Sachet powder! I'll bet anything 

Uncle (r.). My dear girl ! How can you 

Inez (rising). She's been here. I know she has. 
She 

(Enter Mrs. Travis at c. with Amy. They come 
down L.) 

Mrs. T. Oh, there you are, dear. Don't you think 
it's about time to be starting home for dinner? 

Uncle (appalled). Dinner! 

Inez (tragically). Dinner! What do I care about 
food ? Look at this ! 

(She brandishes the parasol — the others look amazed. 
Olga's voice is heard off stage.) 

Olga. I tell you, Dick dear, I know I left it there. 
I wouldn't lose that parasol for worlds! (Olga 
appears at c. followed by Dick. They all stand 
as though petrified, except Olga, who comes down 
c.) What are you doing with my parasol? 

Inez (wildly). The manicure girl ! 

31 



A HOT DAY 



m 



(She sinks fainting into chair, l. Uncle rushes to n 
her and rubs her hands. Mrs. T. and Amy stare I 
at Olga who is staring at Inez.) 

Dick (dashing at Olga, seijses her by the hand and 
drags her up stage to c. just as Lucy and May 
appear at r. in amazement. ) Gosh ! 

(Curtain falls as he drags Olga unwillingly off at c. 
Uncle continues to chafe Inez's hands; the para- 
sol remains on the table where it fell from her 
hands. Lucy and May at R. Mrs. T. and Amy 
at l. stare at each other in bewilderment.) 



' I 
CURTAIN I 



32 



I 



ACT II 

(Evening of the same day. Same setting. Shades at 
the windows have been lowered; the table at L. has 
been pushed back in front of the window, the red 
parasol being still on it. On a small table down R. 
is a punch bowl with glasses. Colored lamps will 
add to the attractiveness of the scene. As the cur- 
tain rises, May is discovered, standing down l., in 
evening dress. Miu^a is on her knees pinning a 
tear in the hem of the dress. Lucy is seated at r. 
repairing her complexion with the aid of a pocket 
mirror and vanity box. She is also in evening 
dress. Dance music heard faintly off stage at 
intervals throughout the act.) 

May. Has anyone seen Dick? 

Lucy. Dick ! I should say not ! He rushed that girl 

away, and nobody has se'^n either of them since. 

Very odd behavior for an engaged man — I call it. 
May. I thought she had a good deal of style for a 

manicure. 
Lucy. Style ? My dear, they have all the style nowa- 
days — those girls. They're the only ones who 

can afford to dress. 
May. He looked guilty. Didn't you think so? 
Lucy {deliberately) . Well, I suppose anybody'd look 

guilty with a girl like that hanging on to him, and 

his fiancee fainting all over the room. 
May {shaking her head). I'm afraid our boys picked 

up some very strange ideas over in France. 
Lucy. I didn't suppose Dick Fuller would know a 

strange idea if he met it. 
May. Of course Inez won't come to-night. They'll 

hush it up, and we'll never know the truth of it. 
Miura {looking up interestedly). Oh, yes, honorable 

fiancee, she come. She in dressing room now. 



A EOT DAY 

May (staring down at Miura). Well, of all things! 

(Coolly.) Thank you, you've fixed that very 

nicely. I'm much obliged. 
Miura (rising). Oh, yes, all light now. 

(Exit, L.) 

May. Gracious, I forgot she was around, didn't you ? 
Orientals are so creepy. 

Lucy. Aren't they! But if people will get them- 
selves mixed up in scandals they've only them- 
selves to blame when they're talked about. 

May. I think so, too. (She goes up to bozvl, drinks 
a cup of punch. Lucy, down r., is still absorbed 
in face cidture.) I wdhder if Dick's uncle will 
cut him off with a shilling? 

Lucy. Can't tell. She was pretty, wasn't she? 

May. Stunning. Well, Sam Powers will know all 
about it. I hope he comes to-night. 

Lucy (putting away her mirror and rising). He'd 
better— I've two dances with him. Come on; if 
we stay in here any longer, the men will think 
we're prinking. * 

(Goes up c. and takes May's arm.) 

May. Do you know, they say that the new bathing 



suits 



(They go out c, turning to R. A little shriek of 
laughter is heard as they disappear. Dick dashes 
in at R. wild looking and excited. He throzvs him- 
self down in the chair at l. Hears the girls' 
giggles and scowls angrily.) 

Dick. There's no use, she's got us both. Sam with 
the letters, and me on circumstantial evidence. 
If I hadn't been smart enough to lose her in that 
restaurant ! 

(He lights a cigarette, groans disgustedly, his head in 
his hands. Miura enters at L. Listens to his 
groans in surprise.) 

34 



A SOT DAY 

MiURA. Oh my, you sick ? 

Dick {angrily). No! 

MiURA {going to punch bowl r. and bringing him a 

glass of punch). You drink. You feel better. 

All honorable man feel better when drunk. 

{She kneels before him offering the glass.) 

Dick {drinking it). Thanks — thanks awfully — but, I 
say, please don't do that ! 

MiURA {smiling). Do what? 

Dick {sharply). Don't kneel around me like that. 
This isn't opera, and I've got to be awfully care- 
ful of appearances from now on. 

{He groans again.) 

MiURA {still kneeling). Why you go like that? 
{Imitates him.) You sick again? 

Dick. No. Tell me, Yum Yum, do they have breach 
of promise suits in your country ? 

MiURA {giggling). What those things? You wear 
'em — all same one piece bathing suits ? 

Dick. She's never even heard of 'em. That's the 
place for Sam and me to go. The only safe spot. 

MiURA. You go Japan? He very safe — plenty bat- 
tleship — plenty soldier — good place — Japan ! 

{Enter Amy hurriedly from r. She is in evening dress 
and wrap.) 

Amy. Oh, Dick {She stops suddenly.) 

Dick {rising quickly, pushes the glass into Miura's 

hands). Come in! She's showing me how they 

do these things in Japan. 
Amy {sceptically). Oh! 
Dick. Yes. Run along, Yum Yum, I'm busy. 

(MiuRA obediently runs off at l. Dick turns 

sharply to Amy.) Well? 
Amy. Dick, something dreadful has happened ! 
Dick {earnestly). I know it, but I swear to you, 

Amy 

Amy. Oh, I don't mean your manicure girl ! I don't 

35 



A Mot D At 

believe that was your fault, no matter what 
Mother says. I believe you're just an easy mark. 

{With a meaning glance after Miura.) 

Dick {seizing both her hands joyously). Amy, do you 
mean that ? If you can only persuade Inez ■ 

Amy {impatiently). Oh, never mind that, now. I 
tell you something awful has happened to Sam 
Powers. 

Dick {angrily). I know what's happened to him. 
He's run away — the coward ! 

Amy {reproachfully). Dick, how can you say such 
things ? 

Dick. How can I? Don't I know what he did? 
Hasn't he deserted me in my time of need? If I 
hadn't been smart enough to 

Amy {wildly). Oh, can't you think of anybody but 
yourself? I tell you Sam has just 'phoned that 
he's been arrested 

Dick. He ought to be. 

Amy {tragically). He's been pinched for driving 
forty miles an hour in a bathing suit, and punching 
the head of the cop that nabbed him ! 

Dick {dazed). Amy, child, your language — I don't 
feel very well — would you mind translating? 

Amy. He is in the police court for disorderly con- 
duct, speeding, and assaulting an officer. Is that 
clear ? 

Dick. Horribly. Say, we must get him out. He's 
my only witness, understand. 

Amy. But there's a hundred dollar fine! He would 
have been all right if he only hadn't made the 
policeman's nose bleed. Oh, why can't people 
realize how perishable policemen are ! 

{She seems about to burst into tears. Dick eyes her 
suspiciously.) 

Dick. Why this sudden interest in old Sam? And 

why should he 'phone you ? 
Amy {indignantly and volubly). Because he knows 

36 



A HOT DAT 

I've been arrested myself, and that I can appreci- 
ate his sufferings much better than any of you 
perfect people. That's why ! But what's the use ? 
I'm broke. 

Dick. He must be released and brought here at 
once — I need him. (He takes his check book from 
his pocket, also a fountain pen and writes a check. 
He hands it to her. ) You go down there and pay 
that fine and bring him back. Don't let him get 
away. 

Amy (folding the check delightedly). Why should 
he want to get away ? 

Dick (severely). Because he's a natural quitter. 
You keep your eye on him. I'd go with you, but 
I've got to see Inez. (Amy starts to go, but he 
stops her.) And no flirting with him. Under- 
stand ? 

Amy (scornfully). Well, for a person who's been 
going your pace, I must say you're a bit particular ! 

(She sails out airily at R.) 

Dick (wildly). Even the infants are doing it! Oh, 
wait till I get my hands on Sam Powers ! 

(He crosses up stage, clenching his fists angrily, runs 
against Uncle Philip, who is entering^ R. Uncle 
seizes Dick's arm and brings him severely 
down c.) 

Uncle (indignantly). Oh, here you are, you young 

Don Juan ! 

Dick. Uncle, I assure you 

Uncle. Sit down. I want to talk to you. 

Dick (nervously). I'm sorry. I'm too nervous to 

■f-oii^ Later 

Uncle. Not later, but now. This is my interview. 

I'll do the talking. Sit down ! 

(Dick sits abruptly.) 



Dick. Since you insist 

Uncle (seating himself at l.). Young man, I am 

37 



A HOT DAY 

deeply disappointed in you — deeply. My con- 
fidence has been misplaced — my good nature 
abused. 

Dick (c, earnestly). Uncle, if you will listen to an 
explanation 

Uncle. Keep still, sir. Nothing irritates me so as 
explanations of things that can't be explained. 

Dick. Oh, very well, go on. {Goes R. and sits.) 

Uncle. I will. While I feel that I have been badly 
treated, sir, I do not lose sight of the fact that 
there is someone else who has been more shame- 
fully abused than myself. 

Dick. You bet I have. 

Uncle. You? No, not you. I mean that lovely 
girl to whom you are engaged. I mean Inez, sir. 

Dick. Go on, rub it in. I can't feel any worse than 
I do. 

Uncle. I am glad your conscience hurts you. Now, 
young man, I don't propose to have that girl's 
heart broken. 

Dick. What are you going to do about it? I called 
her on the 'phone and told her I was innocent, and 
she refused to believe me. 

Uncle. Naturally. How can she believe you inno- 
cent ? Tell her something she can believe. 

Dick. What? 

Uncle. I'm not condoning your offence, I'm only 
trying to save her feelings. Make a clean breast 
of it, Dick, and she'll forgive you. 

Dick (hotly). She has no business to forgive me if 
she thinks I've been making love to another girl. 

Uncle. Women are noble creatures. Tell her the 
truth, Dick. 

Dick. I can't — just now. 

Uncle (disgustedly). Then tell her a better yarn 
than that one about your being innocent. Didn't 
she see the girl ? 

Dick (angrily). A perfectly decent young wo- 
man 

Uncle. Don't yell at me, sir. I don't believe in false- 
hoods — as a general thing — but I fear that they 

38 



A HOT DA Y 

are necessary at times, to save the feelings of 

others. You do love Inez ? 
Dick. Love her? I adore her. She's the only girl 

in the world for me. 
Uncle. Then I'll help you. We'll tell Inez that the 

girl was a' patient of yours 

Dick. No, that won't do. 

Uncle. Leave it to me. She's in the dressing room 

with her mother. Calm yourself and get your 

story ready. I'll have them here in a jiffy. 

(Uncle rises, starts l. Dick jumps up and grabs him.) 

Dick. No, I can't lie to her ! 

Uncle (totichily). Well, if you can't tell her the 

truth, and you can't lie to her, I fail to see 

Dick. But I 

Mrs. T. (voice heard off stage). I tell you, I've had 

my suspicions for some time, my dear. 
Dick (in a panic). Here they are! You prepare 

'em. I'll do what I can. 

(He bolts off at c. Mrs. Travis and Inez enter at l. 
Mrs. T. is talking.) 

Mrs. T. And I think it's very queer of you to want 
to come here to-night after what happened this 
afternoon. Good-evening, Mr. Pemberton. 

(She crosses and sits r.) 

Uncle (remaining at c). Good-evening, dear lady. 
Inez (sinking listlessly into chair l.). Do you think 

I'm going to have Dick Fuller imagining that I've 

gone into retirement for life just because he's 

jilted me? 
Uncle (horrified). My dear child, what a horrible 

expression ! 
Mrs. T. I'm ashamed of you. The young man 

proved unworthy, and you broke the engagement. 
Inez (doitbtfidly). Yes. 
Mrs. T. And fortunate you are to have found him 

out now instead of later. 

39 



A HOT DAY ' 

Inez. T — I suppose so. 

Uncle. Don't you think you're a little hard on the 

boy, madam ? 
Mrs. T. Hard on him ! Did you see the hussy ? 
Inez. And the parasol? 
Uncle. I did. I admit it looks bad for him, but 

you must remember that we haven't heard his side 

of the story. 
Inez. That's what I said, Mother. 
Mrs. T. Humph ! The less said about his side the 

better. I regard him as a male vampire. 
Inez. Mother ! 

Uncle. My dear Mrs. Travis ! 
Mrs. T. a male vampire — no more, no less. 

(Inez sobs.) 

Uncle (hastily). Now, now, let's not take this affair 
too seriously. Did you ever stop to think that she 
might have been a patient? 

Inez. Oh, she couldn't be. Dick's patients are all 
nervous wrecks. 

Uncle. She may look healthier than she is. There 
are women like that. 

Mrs. T. Indeed there are ! Why, my heart 

Inez (quickly). Uncle Phil, you've seen Dick? 

Uncle. I have, and he's all impatience to see you and 
tell you — ahem — the truth. Let me find him ! 

Mrs. T. What's the use of getting ourselves all 
stirred up again? I couldn't eat a mouthful of 
dinner. 

Inez (rising). I will see him. I don't care what hap- 
pens. Where is he ? 

Uncle. He was out on the veranda awhile ago. 

(Inez goes up stage.) 

Mrs. T. Now, Inez 

Inez (calling at door up c). Dick! 

(Dick, who has been listening anxiously, rushes in 
and embraces her.) 

Dick. Darling ! i 

40 



A HOT DAY 

Inez (pushing him azvay and coui'ing down L. again. 

Dick comes down c. ) . No, don't touch me ! 
Mrs. T. Not so fast, young man. We should Hke a 

simple explanation of your extraordinary conduct 

this afternoon. 
Inez. Why did you carry her picture around with 

you? And why did you bring her here? And 

why does she carry that horrid red parasol ? And 

why do you let her call you " Dick, dear " 

Dick (wildiy). Do you call that a simple explana- 
tion? 
Uncle (calmly). Certainly. Tell the ladies, Dick, 

why this — that peculiar patient of yours carries a 

red parasol. 
Dick. Because — because she's a Bolshevist. 
All (horrified). A Bolshevist ! 
Dick. Yes. Red's their color, isn't it? I thought 

everybody knew that. 
Inez (awed). Is she a real Bolshevist? 
Dick. Of course. Doesn't she act like it? 
Inez. But that doesn't explain her calling you " Dick, 

dear." 
Dick. Yes, it does. There is no social humbug about 

the Bolsheviki. They call everybody " Bill " and 

" Dick " and " Ike." 
Mrs. T. But why did you tell Inez that she was a 

manicure girl ? 

Dick. Why? Why, you see, she — Mrs. Brown 

Inez. Mrs. Brown ! 

Dick. That's her name — Mrs. Brown. And she is 

traveling incognito. 

(During these explanations, Uncle manifests consid- 
erable agitation, evidently doubting Dick's ability 
to carry the thing through.) 

Mrs. T. I fail to see the reason for a person named 
" Brown " to travel incognito. 

Dick (snappishly). Well, you don't have to see it; 
Mrs. Brown sees it, and that's enough. She's tre- 
mendously rich and is doing manicuring for the 
experience. 

41 



A HOT DA Y 

Inez. Experience! 

Mrs. T. Where is Mr. Brown? 

Dick. Oh, he's in Russia, keeping the home fires 
burning. He 

Inez (throwing herself into Dick's arms). Oh, Dick, 
dear, do forgive me ! I do beheve you, because I 
know you couldn't be so wicked as to flirt with a 
married woman. If she is married, that settles it. 

Dick (rushing to her). Darling! 

Mrs. T. But I must say that I think you might have 
made it a little plainer in the beginning that she 
was a patient and rich. 

Uncle. He w^as too hurt, madam, to have his wits 
about him. 

Dick (embracing Inez). Exactly. 

Uncle (to Mrs. T.). What do you say, dear lady, to 
a little stroll on the veranda? With some of this 
excellent punch, and a wafer or two? 

Mrs. T. (weakening). Well — I don't mind 

(They go to the punch howl, Uncle helping her 
gallantly to punch and wafers.) Four, please; 
they're very small. 

(Exit both at c.) 

Inez. Dick, how could I have misjudged you? 

Dick. You couldn't. You were influenced by others. 

Inez. That was it. And this is what you wanted Sam 
to tell me? 

Dick. Why, well, practically, dear, practically. 

Inez. I wonder why he behaved so queerly? 

Dick. Do you know, I often wonder that about Sam? 
Let's go and dance, shall we ? 

Inez. I'm afraid I've promised this one. The 
next 

Dick. And the next and the next— all mine. 

Inez (laughing, taking a tiny pozvder puff from her 
handkerchief). All right. Is my nose fright- 
fully red? 

Dick (surveying it seriously). A trifle. But it's a 
wonderful nose, dearest. 
42 



A HOT DAY 



(He fakes the little puff from her and powders it care- 
fully for her. ) 

Inez {running off at r.). Wait here for me — don't 

forget. 
Dick {earnestly). Forget? Never. 

{Overcome by the change for the better in the situa- 
tion, he walks up and down, zvhistling happily. 
Then he lights a cigarette and is about to seat him- 
self at R. when he sees Olga enter at L. He stops 
in horror.) 

Olga. Well ? 

Dick. Gosh ! 

Olga. Fve come for an explanation. 

Dick. You're too late ; I've used them all up. 

Olga. Two explanations. First, why did you tell 

people that I was a manicure girl; second, why 

did you walk off and leave me alone in that 

restaurant ? 
Dick {hedging). Why? 
Olga. You said you were going out to get a cigarette, 

but I noticed that the other men got theirs from 

the waiter. 
Dick. I smoke only a certain kind. They don't carry 

'em in restaurants — too expensive. 
Olga. How foolish to smoke such expensive ciga- 
rettes that restaurants can't carry them! When 

we are married I shall teach you better ways. 

{Intensely.) We shall Hve among the masses 

Dick. Oh, yes, I know. Chase the festive bomb from 

meeting to meeting and all that sort of thing — but 

wait till we're married. 
Olga. How often must I tell you that I don't believe 

in bombs? They're out of date. 
Dick. Are they? I thought they were being used a 

good deal this season. 
Olga {dreamily). When the soviet government is 

established 

Dick {energetically). Look here, you're going to get 

pinched, talking that way. Come here, I want to 

43 



A HOT DA Y 

show you something. {He goes up to window, 
Olga following. ) Do you see that elderly gentle- 
man sitting out there with the fat lady? 

Olga. Yes. Your uncle, isn't he? 

Dick (bringing her down c. again). Don't let him see 
you! 

Olga. Why not ? I like him. 

Dick. Because he is looking for you. 

Olga. For me ? 

Dick. Yes. He's my uncle all right ; but he's also in 
the Secret Service. 

Olga (a little frightened). A plain clothes man? 

Dick. Something of the sort. 

Olga. But what does he know about me ? 

Dick (mysteriously). Everything. 

Olga. Oh, no ! 

Dick. Oh, yes. I tried to save you by saying that 
you were a manicure girl, but he was too deep for 
me. Any moment he may come in here and see 
you 

Olga. But I haven't done anything ! 

Dick. What do the police care whether you've done 
anything or not? Their business is to grab you. 
You're a suspicious character 

Olga (clinging to Dick's arm). Do you mean to say 
that he'd arrest me? 

Dick. Would he? He'd rather do it than eat. 

Olga. Oh ! 

Dick. Fll tell you what you'd better do. You go into 
the dressing room — it's the first door to the right 
(he leads her l.) and you stay there till after the 
next dance, and then I'll take you away. See? 

Olga. But why wait till after the next dance? I 
want to go now. I don't want to be arrested ! I 
won't be arrested ! 

Dick. No, I can't go till after the next dance. It 
would arouse suspicions. You go in there 
and 



Olga (pulling away). No, no 

Dick. Go on, there's somebody coming — I hear 
voices ! I'll come for you after the next dance, 

44 



A MOT DAY 

(He opens the door, pushes her out l., and shuts li, 
standing with his back against it. May enters 
at R.) 

May. Oh, hello, Dick ! 

Dick {moving away from the door). Hello! 

May {crossing l. to him). Where's the Jap? That 

place she pinned in my skirt has all come out 

again. Such a bother! 

{She starts to go out l. Dick stops her.) 

Dick. No, no, she's not there. 

May. Where is she ? 

Dick {thinking rapidly). Why, she's gone to the cor- 
ner — after a headache powder. 

May {giggling). How funny I I didn't know they 
had headaches. Now, I'll have to fix it myself, 
I suppose. {Starts l.) 

Dick. No, no, don't fix it there — fix it here ! 

May {blankly). Well, I never! 

Dick {hurriedly) . You see, she locked the dressing 
room door when she went. Couldn't leave the 
coats and things, you know. 

May {rather irritated). Well, how am I going to do 
it without a mirror, I'd like to know? This is fine 
service ! 

Dick {che erf idly). Rotten! Let me do it for you. 

May. You! 

Dick. Yes, I'm a wizard with a needle. 

May. There's no needle about this ; you'll have to pin 
it. {She shows him the place in the hem and 
pulls the pins out.) It will be good practice for 
you. 

Dick {getting on his knees and starting to pin). Rip- 
ping! 

(Olga cautiously opens door at L., peers in. May's 
back is toward her but Dick, who is facing front, 
catches sight of her. In his agitation, waving her 
back, he drives a pin sharply into May's ankle.) 

May. Ouch! {O^lga disappears.) 

45 



A SOT DAT 

Dick. Oh, I beg your pardon ! I'm as clumsy as an 

elephant. 
May. Aren't you nearly through ? 
Dick. All through. Fine job. 

(Fans himself. May examines the hem over her 
shoulder and decides that it is all right.) 

May. It looks all right. 

Dick {rising and looking apprehensively at door l.). 

I say, let's get out of here. Aren't you dancing? 
May. Yes, but I've got this next one with Sam, and 

he's not here. Come on, let*s have it together. 

Dick. Delighted, but 

May. You needn't worry about Inez being jealous; 

she's having a wonderful flirtation with that Smith 

boy. Come on, I want to hear all about that cute 

little manicure girl ! 

{She seizes the helpless Dick hy the arm and drags him 
off at R. just as Inez appears at c.) 

Inez {staring wrathfidly after them). Well, I never! 
First he flirts with a patient and then with my best 
friend ! Oh, how I hate men ! {She stamps her 
foot angrily. Olga appears at l. ; starts to enter, 
sees Inez and draws hack. Inez sees her.) Don't 
let me disturb you, Mrs. Brown, I am just leaving. 

Olga {puzzled). Brown! 

Inez. Oh, don't explain — I quite understand ! Only — 
{fiercely) I don't see why you have to follow him 
around all the time, even if you are a — a Bolshe- 
vist! 

{She rushes off at r. Olga stares after her in amaze- 
ment.) 

Olga. That woman's crazy ! She's the one that stole 
my parasol, too. Mrs. Brown, indeed ! I'm going 
after her. 

\S tarts to cross R. when Uncle enters at c.) 

46 



A SOT DAT 

Uncle. Ahem ! 

Olga (stopping). Oh! 

Uncle (severely). One moment, young lady ! What 
are you doing here ? 

Olga (scared). Nothing! Not a thing in the world, 
Mr. 

Uncle. Pemberton. I am Dick's uncle. 

Olga (nervously). Oh, yes, Dick said you were his 
uncle. (Desperately.) He said you were after 
me. 

Uncle (horrified) . After you ? My dear young lady, 
are you out of your head? 

Olga (angrily). Then that was a lie, too? Oh, how 
I hate him for this ! 

Uncle. If you mean that my nephew has been de- 
ceiving you 

Olga (eagerly). Oh, yes — yes — he has! Shame- 
fully!^ • 

Uncle. Gained your affections by false representa- 
tions 

Olga. No, not exactly. He did it by letters. 

Uncle. Letters ! 

Olga. Yes. We corresponded all the time he was in 
France. 

Uncle. Oh, what perfidy! 

Olga. And now he says he doesn't care for me. He 
even tried to pretend to me that he wasn't the man 
who wrote the letters. 

Uncle (shocked). Dreadful. Sit down, my dear, 
and tell me all about it. 

(Olga sits at l. Uncle brings another chair and sits 
near her.) 

Olga. You're perfectly sure you're not a plain clothes 

man? 
Uncle. Good Heavens! Why should I be a plain 

clothes man? 
Olga. What an idiot I've been ! 
Uncle. Tut, tut, my child, young folks are always 

foolish. 

47 



A EOT DAT 

Olga. I'll never speak to a young man again. How 
lovely of you to understand ! 

Uncle (flattered). Suppose you tell me something 
about yourself? 

Olga. Well, you see, I'm not really Russian. 

Uncle. Thank Heaven. 

Olga. No, I came from a small town in Michigan. 

Uncle. From Michigan. How very interesting. 

Olga. I've always been a great reader. I read all the 
best sellers. 

Uncle. Dear me ! 

Olga (dreamily). I read all about artists, and an- 
archists, bombs and Bolsheviki, suffragettes and 
spies and suicides 

Uncle. Upon my word ! 

Olga. And when I saw how people liked to read 
about those things, I made up my mind that I 
could write them, too. So I did. I wrote a lot 
of them for the magazines. 

Uncle. Bless me ! 

Olga. Anonymously, of course. My people are very 
respectable — and disgustingly rich. 

Uncle. Indeed ? 

Olga. Oh, yes. So I called myself " Olga Sama- 
roff." My real name is Jane Jones. 

Uncle. A sweet name. And — somehow — quite fa- 
miliar! (He tries to remember something.) 

Olga. You are a dear ! Old men are very much 
nicer than young ones. Then I came to New 
York because I thought it would be interesting to 
see some of the things happen that I had been 
writing about. 

Uncle. A very dangerous step, my dear. 

Olga. Oh, I got along all right till I fell in love with 
Dick's mentality. 

Uncle. With his mentality ! 

Olga. Yes, I reverenced it, but I don't any more. 
I'm disappointed in him. 

Uncle. So am I — horribly. 

Olga. Now, you are different. You have brains. 

Uncle. No, really ! 

48 



I 



A HOT DAY 

Olga. I adore brains. 

Uncle. Most unusual in a young person. You seem 

to have real penetration. 
Olga. I want to know you better. Can't we dance? 

I'ni wild to dance. 

Uncle. We might, but 

Olga. You're afraid Dick won't like it? 

Uncle. Confound Dick! What has he got to do 

with it? (Rises.) 
Olga (jumping up). Let's make him jealous, shall 

we? 

(Enter Miura at l. She comes down r. to punch 
bowl to fill a tray of glasses. ) 

Uncle. We will. Lead on. 

(They go out at R. Miura continues filling the glasses, 
though she takes in the fact that Uncle and Olga 
are indulging in a flirtation. Dick enters hastily 
at c, comes down r. and seizes' Miura hy the 
shoidders.) 

Dick. Tell her to come out. 

Miura. Who come out? 

Dick. The young lady in there. (Points L.) 

Miura. Them young lady, she gone. 

Dick. Gone ! 

Miura. Honorable old man he take her away ! 

Dick. Am I losing my mind ! See here 

(He shakes Miura as though to shake the truth out of 
her. Amy and Sam enter at r. Sam is in a very 
shabby suit of clothes. He suggests the place he 
has come from — the workhouse. They pause 
up c.) 

Amy. Here he is ! 
Dick. Well, I'll be 



(He drops Miura, who scuds away at l.) 
Amy. Wasn't I quick ? I had to go clear to the work- 



49 



A HOT DAY 

house for him. That poHceman's nose is all over 

his face. (Sam and Amy come down c.) 
Sam. Serves him right. He'll mind his own business 

next time. 
Dick. You're a heavenly one to talk about minding 

one's business, aren't you? 
Sam. What d'you mean? 
Dick. You know what I mean. Where'd you get 

those clothes? 
Sam. They loaned 'em to me at the workhouse. 
Dick. I believe you. 
Amy. Well, what did you expect him to do? Go 

around with a lady in his bathing suit? 

(She takes off her wrap, goes l., and exit l. into the 
dressing room. Dick seizes Sam hy the shoul- 
der.) 

Dick {down c). Listen to me. I'm going to get 

Inez and her mother in here and you're going to 

tell them the truth. D'you get me ? 

Sam {down c, wriggling). But, I say 

Dick {holding him). You're going to tell them the 

truth! She's here! (Sam starts to bolt.) No, 

you don't. Not this time. 
Sam. Do you mean to say that Olga is here — in this 

building? 
Dick. Exactly. Dancing with my uncle. 

Sam. Dancing with 

Dick. I took her out and lost her in a restaurant, but 

she came back. 
Sam. But — but it's not possible ! 
Dick. Of course not, but it's true. She thinks I am 

you. 
Sam. But, say, that's just what we wanted her to 

think, isn't it? 
Dick. Oh, did we? Well, it's not what my fiancee 

and her mother and my rich uncle want her to 

think. You stay here till I get hold of them, or 

you'll get something that'll make the workhouse 

seem sweet. Get me? 
50 



k 



A HOT DAT 

(He goes up and dashes out at r. Sam looks about 
zvildly. ) 

Sam. Here! In this house! What'U I do? 

(Starts up stage. Amy enters l., hat and wrap 
removed. ) 

Amy. What's the matter? Was Dick disagreeable? 
Sam. Disagreeable ! 

Amy. It's that parasol girl. She's on his nerves. 
Sam. Let's not talk about her. I want to ask you 

something. 
Amy (shyly). Yes? 
Sam. First of all, I want to tell you that I'll never 

forget how perfectly ripping you've been to-night. 
Amy. Nonsense. 

(She comes down l. Sam follows.) 

Sam. You know, I've admired you tremendously 
ever since that day you bawled me out from the 
ambulance. 

Amy. I didn't ! I only said 

Sam. Yes, yes, I remember what you said. I thought 
you were awfully plucky. 

Amy. I thought you were awfully rude. 

Sam. I was — I am, but I'm trying to reform. I just 
wanted to tell you that no matter what you hear 
about me in the next few minutes — even if I say it, 
myself, it doesn't mean that I don't think a lot 
of you and appreciate what you've done for me. 

Amy. Good gracious, you talk like the hero of a 
movie ! Has the workhouse gone to your head, 
Sam? 

Sam. I'm not the hero — I'm the villain. 

Amy. Don't you call yourself a villain. I won't have 
it. 

Sam. Say, Amy, do you suppose you could like me 
a little bit? 

Amy. Well, I might, Sam, if you had your own 
clothes on. 

Sam. Honest to goodness? Say, Amy 



A HOT DA Y 



A]siY. Hush, that Jap will hear you ! 
Sam (coming closer). I don't care — 



(Enter Dick zvith Inez by one arm and Mrs. Travis 
by the other, from r., and leads them down r. c. 
Sam and Amy jump apart.) . 

Dick. Here they are. Tell 'em your share of it, 
while I go and rope Uncle. 

(He dashes out at r. The others stare at Sam in 
amazement.) 

Inez. You needn't tell me anything! I don*t wish 

to hear it ! 
Mrs. T. (down r. c, to Sam). Where have you 

been — in those awful clothes ! 
Sam (down l., shortly). In the workhouse. 
Mrs. T. Amy, don't you go near that young man till 

he's been fumigated. 
Amy (dozvn l., to Sam). What did he mean by your 

share of it? 
Sam. Listen to me. I've got to tell you or Dick will 

run amuk all over the place. This Mrs. Green 

Inez (down r.). Mrs. Green! 

Sam. Yes, that's her name at present. 

Mrs. T. At present! 

Sam. Yes, she's a client of mine, and I'm getting her 

a divorce from Green, who's a brute. 
Amy. How splendid of you ! 
Sam. She's living here so that she can say that Mr. 

Green deserted her. The law, you know, requires 

an excuse. 
Inez. I thought you said that Mr. Green was a brute. 

That's some excuse, I should think. 
Sam. I meant " brute " in a figurative sense. I don't 

mean that he beats her, I mean that like too many 

men he is unable to understand a sensitive woman. 
Inez. I've noticed that. But it doesn't explain her 

running after Dick. 
Mrs. T. Or his telling us that she was a patient of his. 

(Olga's face appears in the opening at c. She listens.) 

52 



A HOT DAY 

Inez. You'll have to do better than that, Sam Powers ! 
(Bewilderinent on Olga's face.) 

Sam. I don't know why her being a dient of mine 

need prevent her being a patient of Dick's. 
Mrs. T. Nor I. It seems a natural result. She's 

probably a lunatic. 
Amy. But, Sammy, Dick said she was a manicure. 
Sam. Well, am I to blame because Dick's a liar? 

She's not a manicure. I'll take my oath as a 

lawyer that she's not. 

(Enter Dick r., with Lucy by one arm'and May hy the 
other. They come to c. Olga disappears.) 

Dick. I can't find Uncle. Ten to one she's eloped 
with him. 

Mrs. T. (dozvn r.). A family characteristic. 

Dick (c). What do you mean by that? 

Mrs. T. I mean that Inez is a very lucky girl to have 
found out about Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Green be- 
fore she married either of you young men. 

(Sam starts up c. toward Dick.) 

Amy (indignantly). Mother! 

Inez (down r.). Nothing would induce me to marry 

either of them. 
Lucy (going down r.). You're right. 
May (going down r.). That's the spirit. 

(They gather round Inez. Mrs. T. crosses L. and 
stands between Amy and Sa'm. Sam and Dick 
are at c, a little up stage.) 

Dick (angrily to Sam). What have you told them? 

(Enter Olga angrily, at c. She comes down between 
Dick and Sam. They both groan.) 

Olga. Lies ! All lies ! Hundreds of them ! 

Inez (bursting into tears). Oh! 

pLGA. Come in, Mr. Pemberton ; I want you to hear 

53 



A HOT DAY 

the truth. {Enter Uncle at c. ; comes dozvn. 
Olga takes him by the hand. She and Uncle 
are now in c, with Dick at Uncle's r. and Sam 
at Olga's l. Inez and the two girls at the ex- 
treme R., Mrs. T. and Amy the extreme l., Miura 
peeking in the doorway at l. ) You are the only 
one who's been a real friend to me. 

Dick (snappishly). Well, telUng him the truth is no 
way to keep his friendship. 

Olga. Oh, Mr. Samuel Powers, I know you now ! 
(Sam quails. Olga points to him scornfidly.) 
Listen, all of you. He wrote to me all the time 
he was in France, until I thought I was in love 
with his brains 

All. His brains ! 

Olga. Till I thought him the man I had dreamed of. 
And then he allowed another man to pretend to 
be him in order to get rid of me. 

Uncle. Coward ! 

Sam. I'm not a coward. I wasn't a bit scared over 
in France, but she 

Olga. You needn't be afraid of me any more, either 
of you. I'm through with you both. Neither of 
you is able to hold the interest of a serious minded 
woman. 

Inez. Dick! (Dick flies to her, dozvn r.) 

Dick. Yes, dearest. 

Inez. You didn't make love to her? 

Dick. Not an inch. 

{He embraces her. Sam turns to Amy, but encounters 
Mrs. T.) 

Olga. I detest you both. Mr. Pemberton, I'm going 
back to the little town in Michigan, where I was 
happy. I'm tired of being a Bolshevist. 

Sam. Thank the Lord! 

Uncle. We'll take the next train. 

{He gives her his arm, and they go off at c.) 

Sam {in a hollow tone). She's got him! 
Mrs. T. Minx! 

54 



A EOT DA Y 

Dick (to Sam). Now, see what you've done ! Ruined 

my prospects ! 
Inez. He'll never do a thing for us, now. 
Mrs. T. That monster will seize everything in sight. 
Sam. Oh, say, he can't be serious. 
Amy. Yes, he can. He has strength of character. 

He doesn't flirt with every girl he meets. 
Sam. My dear girl 

(He tries to take her hand.) 

Amy. Not in those clothes ! 

Sam (humbly). Would you prefer the bathing suit? 

I've got that on underneath. 
Mrs. T. Sir ! 

(Enter Uncle at c. in a hurry and breathless.) 

Uncle. Her parasol ! She left it on the table. (Lucy 
hands it to him. ) Thank you, my dear. 

Mrs. T. Viper ! 

Uncle. Hold on ! You don't understand. Miss Jane 
Jones 

All. Jones? 

Uncle. That's her name. I thought it sounded fa- 
miliar, but I've just got the connection. She's the 
daughter of that millionaire chap out in Michigan. 
He's been advertising for her— offers $100,000 re- 
ward for information of her whereabouts. I'm 
telegraphing it to him. 

Dick. One hundred thousand dollars ! 

Sam. Suffering sinners ! 

Amy. Then you aren't going to marry her? 

Uncle. That will depend on the young lady, my dear. 
At present, I am taking her to her bereaved par- 
ent. (Sam groans.) Of course, Dick, now that 
I understand the situation, you may count on me 
for that wedding present. 

(He exits hastily, carrying parasol, at c.) 

Inez. Dick ! 
Dick. Inez ! 

55 



A HOT DAY 

Sam. And now, Amy, you know what I have given 
up for you. Never again doubt my sincerity. 
One hundred thousand dollars — just like that — 
for you ! 

Amy. Oh, Sam, how wonderful you are ! 

MiuRA. Supper eating now — you no hungry? 

Mrs. T. Come, children, I have a very hollow feeling 
about my heart. I know that I need food. (As 
Sam starts to take her arm.) Not in those clothes ! 



CURTAIN 



56 



I 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

GRADUATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in Two Acts, by Ward Macauley. For six 
males and four females, with several minor parts. Time of 
playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes; 
may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual com- 
bination of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations, 
etc., with an interesting love story. The graduation exercises 
(include short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions, 
and a comical speech by a country school trustee. Price, 15 
cents. 

EXAMINATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in One Act, by Ward Macauley. Eight male 
and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour. 
Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Cos- 
tumes, modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a 
trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination in- 
cludes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers 
to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims 
the teacher. Very easy and very effective. Price, 15 cents. 

BACK TO THE COUNTRY STORE. A Rural Enter- 
tainment in Three Acts, by Ward Macauley. For four male 
?ind five female characters, with some supers. Time, two hours. 
Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are 
sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in 
a country store, aspires to be a great author or singer and 
decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in 
Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership 
in the country store. He pops the question in the midst of a 
surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny. 
Price, 15 cents. 

THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For eleven males and one 
female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or super- 
numeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special 
scenery is required, and the costumes and properties are all 
easy. The play shows an uproarious political nominating con- 
vention. The climax comes when a woman's rights cham- 
pion, captures the convention. There is a great chance to bur- 
lesque modern politics and to work in local gags. Every 
part will make a hit. Price, 15 cents. , 

SI SLOCUM'S COUNTRY STORE. An Entertainment 
:in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eleven male and five female 
'characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled. 
Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set 
scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for an entertain- 
ment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity foi 
specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted 
to almost any place or occasion. Price, 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBUSHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

A SURPRISE PARTY AT BRINKLEY'S. An En- 
tertainment in One Scene, by Ward Macauley. Seven male and 
seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the 
author of the popular successes, "Graduation Day at Wood Hill 
School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have 
planned a birthday surprise party for Mary Brinkley, recently 
graduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs, j 
conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises 
the surprisers. The entertainment is a sure success. Price, 15 centSv 

JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by 
Edward Mumford. Fifteen male and six female characters, with 
supernumeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the 
parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple 
interior ; may be played without scenery. Costumes, modern. 
Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel 
features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every 
character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are 
many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. Price, 15 cents. 

THE SIGHT-SEEING CAR. A Comedy Sketch in One 
Act, by Ernest M. Gould. For seven males, two females, or 
may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so 
that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes. 
Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent 
■ef a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the 
machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous 
characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gat- 
ling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. Price, 15 cents. 

THE CASE OF SMYTHE VS. SMITH. An Original 
Mock Trial in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eighteen males 
and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour. 
Scene, a county courtroom ; requires no scenery ; may be played 
in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is 
nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily 
produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost 
any number of good parts. Price, 15 cents. 

THE OLD MAIDS' ASSOCIATION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment in One Act, by Louise Latham Wilson. For thirteen 
females and one male. The male part may be played by a 
female, and the number of characters increased to twenty or 
more. Time, forty minutes. The play requires neither scenery 
nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Can 
easily be prepared in one or tw» rehearsals. Price, 25 cents. 

BARGAIN DAY AT BLOOMSTEIN'S. A Farcical 
Entertainment in One Act, by Edward Mumford. For five males 
and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, mod- 
ern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situations 
which arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire 
^un from start to finish. Price, 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

. PHILADELPHIA, 



i 



Successful Plays for All Girls 

In Selecting Your Next Play Do Not Overlook This List 

YOUNG DOCTOR DEVINE. A Farce in Two "Acts, 
by Mrs. E. J. H. Goodfellow. One of the most popular 
plays for girls. For nine female characters. Time in 
playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior. Mod- 
ern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a 
young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly con- 
sult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician. 
When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that 
the physician is a female practitioner. Price, 15 cents. 

SISTER MASONS. A Burlesque in One Act, by Frank 
DuMONT. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes, 
fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose 
of Masonry, Some women profess to learn the secrets of a 
Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep, 
and they institute a similar organization. Price, 15 cents. 

A COMMANDING POSITION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment, by Amelia Sanford. For seven female char- 
acters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one 
hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street 
scene, Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt, Miss 
Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position." 
Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and 
school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. Price, 15 
cents, 

HOW A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET. A Comedy 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For ten female characters. 
Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern. 
Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's "the 
deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they must win 
the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible 
ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend. 
Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her. 
But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another 
friend and so the secret travels. Price, 15 cents. 

THE OXFORD AFFAIR. A Comedy in Three Acts, 
by Josephine H. Cobb and Jennie E. Paine. For eight female 
characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, inter- 
iors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the 
play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to 
chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims 
her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties 
of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss 
Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish 
an evening of rare enjoyment. Price 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



The Power of 




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THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF 
ELOCUTION AND ORATORY 

1714 De Lancey Street Philadelphia 



